


a heart's a heavy burden

by bbhyun



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, Light Angst, M/M, Magical Realism, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Studio Ghibli References, Witchcraft, loosely based off howls moving castle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28689630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbhyun/pseuds/bbhyun
Summary: He slumps down on the table, pressing his cheek to the cool counter, and tries to ground himself. He just needs to focus on something solid, something to keep the world from spinning. His eyes fall on Wonwoo, who seems to be in the midst of persuading his customer to order another drink. Soonyoung scoffs.“Don’t fall for it,” he murmurs. “He’ll have you all useless and foolish in no time.” The customer, of course, can’t hear him, and goes ahead and orders another drink. Soonyoung gives a sad smile. “Poor thing.”-Somewhere in between the East and the West, the sky and the earth, the sun and the moon, in a nameless, seaside inn, Soonyoung rests his weary bones and runs into Wonwoo.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	a heart's a heavy burden

**Author's Note:**

> hello there ! i wrote this pretty much in two days, because i was insanely inspired by a dream i had (and studio ghibli, of course!) 
> 
> it's a little all over the place, and i'm not sure it flows as smoothly as i'd like it to, but all the same i hope you'll like it

Rare is a day without tasks and errands to run for Jeonghan. And this is why Soonyoung takes particular pleasure in his rest days, basking lazily in the glory of a day he doesn’t have to scale mountains to collect herbs or broker deals with hostile magical beings.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jihoon greets sarcastically when Soonyoung emerges from his room at noon still in his nightwear. Soonyoung, still rubbing the slumber from his barely-open eyes, gives an obligatory grunt of acknowledgement on his way to their shared bathroom. It seems as if he’s the only one blessed with a rest day today, because Jihoon’s hopping around the second floor of their castle trying to catch a stray pixie with a jar smeared with jam at its base. Through gritted teeth, Jihoon snips. “Care to help?”

Soonyoung turns on the tap, splashing his face with cool water. There’s a yelp outside, a crash, and a string of colourful words from Jihoon. Soonyoung swipes a hand across the mirror, grimacing at the fine dust that coats his fingers. They’re going to need to have a cleaning day, soon. Not today, though, because Soonyoung’s already got a plan for how he’s spending his rest day and it’s decidedly _not_ cleaning a bathroom shared by four fully grown men. As he brushes his teeth, he scrutinises his reflection, fixes his bedhead and wipes at flaking eyeliner. When he leaves the bathroom, he runs into Junhui, who’s clearly just risen too, judging from his half-lidded eyes and slack jaw.

“Morning, Jun!” He says brightly, the cold water having woken him and restored some of his normal cheer. Junhui says nothing back, not to him nor to Jihoon (who’d tried to get help with the rogue pixie from him too) and pushes past him. Junhui’s been around long enough that Soonyoung’s learned not to get offended by his early-morning rudeness, so he skips back into his room happily. Besides, on such a day like this—and it is a lovely day, Soonyoung can smell dry warmth and clear skies outside in his every inhale, there is little that can spoil Soonyoung’s mood.

“Since you’re clearly in a _brilliant_ mood, maybe,” Jihoon yells, words staccato from his futile efforts, “you’d care to help your dear friend out here?”

Soonyoung bursts out of his room once more, now changed into a simple shirt and slacks. He descends down the staircase, and makes a face at the state of their living room. On normal days, their castle’s already in a state of disarray, what with each of them and their own magical belongings strewn around. Jihoon’s conquest with the pixie has sent several careful towers of spell books and journals crashing all over, loose leafs of paper flying about. Well, Soonyoung thinks, it’s just as well he hadn’t been the one to knock them over; for weeks, the towers had been steadily growing, each one of them tiptoeing around them and adding to it with breaths held.

“I’m ever so sorry, Jihoon, it’s just that I’m on break today and I just have to rush off.” He grabs his cloak from the rack and begins to turn the dial of the door to the right coordinates. Turning his head, he sends Jihoon his sunniest smile. Jihoon, spectacles crooked and shirt all rumpled, glares back. Unfriendly to say the least, Soonyoung pouts, but at least the _pixie’s_ winking back from where she hangs off their chandelier. “Besides, Jeonghan hyung would hate for me to ruin this learning opportunity for you. Pixies don’t even like jam, Jihoon. Try harder!”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Soonyoung.”

“Off already, Soonyoung?” Junhui calls sleepily from where he leans over the banister. Soonyoung glances up, just as he’s about to turn the doorknob. Junhui rests his chin on a hand, looking bored. There’s another crash. Jihoon’s broken something. Without shifting his gaze away from Soonyoung, Junhui waves a lazy hand, and the stale air in the castle whirls around the pixie, sending her tumbling into Jihoon’s jar. “The usual, then?”

Soonyoung grins, and opens the door to a familiar cobblestone path. “You know it.”

His first meeting with Wonwoo had been completely incidental. He’d been on a mission of top importance for Jeonghan—that is, fetching him his favourite meat pies for dinner, when he’d noticed the new bartender in Mingyu’s inn. Now, Soonyoung always made it a point to get to know people he did business with. Never mind that this principle hadn’t really taken effect in this inn before and he hardly knew half the servers there aside from Mingyu. Till this day, Soonyoung swears it hadn’t had anything to do with said bartender’s handsome, carved features. As it turned out, the bartender—Wonwoo, had been more than a decent conversational partner. When Soonyoung returned an hour late with cold pies, he told Jeonghan he’d had to fend off some pesky soldiers.

Now, Soonyoung slides into his usual spot by the bar, the corner seat, right beside the tiny flap door that separates the bar and the dining area. He drums his fingers on the counter, staring impatiently at Wonwoo’s back, willing him to turn around and _notice him already_ , until he does.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says, slapping a cloth onto his shoulder. He slides over to where Soonyoung’s seated, and honestly, the flip his stomach does is so tiny Soonyoung can pretend it never happened. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“You never do, that’s the whole point.” Soonyoung waggles his eyebrows, voice light and teasing. “It’s part of my charm. Surprise and mystery.”

“I hate surprises, though,” Wonwoo responds, cocking his head to the side innocently. The action makes some of his dark hair flop to the side. “Lunch?”

“Please,” Soonyoung responds. “Get me something to drink too. And make it strong, it’s been a hellish week.”

Mingyu’s food is, as always, warm and comforting. It’s nothing compared to the food he gets back in the castle, Jihoon being the only decent cook and only knowing how to cook one dish means Soonyoung’s seldom well-fed. He spoons the warm stew into his mouth, savouring the way it warms him from the inside, distantly aware that Wonwoo’s watching him from opposite the counter.

“How long do you have off this time?” Wonwoo asks casually. It’s code for _how long will you stay this time_ , but Wonwoo seldom says what he really means.

“Just a day,” Soonyoung responds when he’s swallowed the food in his mouth.

“That’s not very long,” Wonwoo says with a slight frown, wiping his hands on the back of his trousers. “Half the day’s already gone.”

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most of it then, won’t we?” Soonyoung shoots back, eyes sparkling.

* * *

Soonyoung hadn’t realised he’d been zoning out until Jihoon had thrown a scroll at his head. He’d snapped out of it then, only to realise that his potion was bubbling over. Crestfallen, he watches as the green liquid seeps into the floorboards. That was going to take several spells to properly clean.

He quickly adds a splash of wolf berry juice, which calms the potion considerably. Muttering the spells under his breath, he pretends he can’t feel Jihoon’s shrewd eyes on his back. His behaviour lately has been…off, to say the least. Shameful, to be more accurate. As Jeonghan’s first apprentice, he shouldn’t be messing up as much as he has lately. Just the other day, he’d accidentally shattered Jeonghan’s crystal ball in a dazed state.

“Soonyoung,” begins Jihoon uncomfortably. In response, Soonyoung hums, trying to sound cheerful and unaware. “Are you alright?”

Soonyoung finishes his spell and, satisfied with the now dry floorboards, spins around to give Jihoon a smile. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” he continues hesitantly, “I just thought that maybe—”

Reaching for a ladle, Soonyoung stirs the now still potion with more vigour than necessary. It’s supposed to be a healing potion for an old woman’s nasty fever. He’ll probably have to remake it later. “Why would you think that? Everything’s good, Jihoon. Now, why don’t you get back to your work?”

His voice comes out rushed and forced, and it’s obvious that Jihoon wants to push further, but he just sighs and gets back to his scrolls.

The poorly concealed truth is Soonyoung hasn’t been doing too well. He finds himself messing up every other day, though the others are kind enough not to mention it. He walks around with a strange emptiness in his chest, as if there’s something that should be in its place. And he’s haunted by the same dream every night, one where he’s drowning in the middle of the ocean, only his magic’s not working and there’s only one hand to save him. Everything’s just not going right for him. He frowns down at his chest, places a hand over his heart, as if he expects to find it’s not beating.

He’s never felt quite like this before. In all his years of existence, he’s always been able to pinpoint his problems to a source and then figure a solution out from there. But this state of mind seems to have no clear beginning and ending, and it frustrates him to no end. For all his fooling around, Soonyoung is still a clearcut person at the heart of it all. He likes to go about things logically, resolve problems quickly and efficiently. Jihoon and Junhui have been darting around him awkwardly, as if he’s about to burst into flames any minute. Though Soonyoung can’t really blame them, given his track record lately.

Still, he has Jeonghan, who has always been eerily in tune with emotions. Stirring his potion again, Soonyoung decides it’s time he asks Jeonghan for help with whatever this is.

* * *

“You’ll have to show me around your town one day,” Soonyoung says casually, swirling his drink.

Wonwoo, cleaning the counter, wrinkles his nose. “Why would I? It’s not like you’re new here.”

Soonyoung pulls a face. “Who told you that? Was it Mingyu? The traitor! And after all the business Jeonghan hyung has given him.”

“I did,” comes a new voice, one that’s mild and indifferent, belonging to a slender man with spectacles balancing on the tip of his nose. Soonyoung blinks at him in confusion. The man looks vaguely familiar, but not familiar enough to barge into a private conversation. Wonwoo shakes his head slightly, looking rather sheepish at his friend’s behaviour, but unsurprised.

“I’m Minghao.” The stranger says, then upon noticing Soonyoung’s blank expression, adds, “the owner of the inn. For fuck’s sake, you’ve seen me countless times and you still don’t know who I am? Fucking stuck up mages.”

Soonyoung opens his mouth to retaliate, but Minghao’s already swept away, though not before telling Wonwoo he’s missed a spot. Soonyoung’s left feeling stunned and called out.

“Sorry,” says Wonwoo with a light chuckle, “he can be a bit bristly, but he means no harm, really.”

Soonyoung pauses, thinking of Jeonghan’s nagging and hard stares. “Don’t worry about it. Tough bosses, huh?”

“Oh, Hao’s not too bad, actually. He’s just not fond of magical folk.”

“What about you?” Soonyoung asks, flicking his eyes away from Minghao’s back to Wonwoo’s face, where he keeps them. He’s turning on his full charm now, tilts his chin up slightly and quirks his brow in an unspoken challenge. Opposite him, Wonwoo clears his throat, caught off guard. He only takes a second to recover, though, then he’s responding with the smoothness one expects of a bartender, voice cool and steady.

“I happen to like them quite a bit.”

For a beat, two beats, Soonyoung holds his eye contact before breaking it to down the rest of the liquid in his glass. In that time, Wonwoo retreats to serve another customer. Soonyoung eyes his back with interest. As a general rule of thumb, Soonyoung doesn’t do love. And he certainly doesn’t do love with non-magical folk. It’s one of Jeonghan’s golden pieces of advice. One for the times, to be framed with other classics like _always prepare an antidote_ and _always have an extra shirt on hand._ Soonyoung, though, is a man who’s been born to love, and he falls in love a little bit every day with the various characters he meets. It’s just as well then, that he does it so often he seldom attaches any real importance to them, because _real_ love, real love is messy and tedious and taxing. Soonyoung’s version of love, where he just admires little things in little people, kisses and leaves, that he can still manage. Soonyoung will not be so presumptuous as to say Jeon Wonwoo’s different, because Jeon Wonwoo is but a bartender in a seaside town whose name Soonyoung can’t be bothered to learn. He is but a face in the crowds of people Soonyoung must interact with, albeit a handsome face with a deep, soothing voice, and it would do well for Soonyoung to remember that fact.

“So, the invitation still stands.” Soonyoung tells Wonwoo when he returns to clear the empty glass.

“What offer?” Wonwoo asks with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been taught never to accept invitations from mages. Especially mages who flirt a bit too much with every being who walks this planet.”

Soonyoung gasps in mock offence. “I do _not_ do that!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!” Soonyoung pouts and snaps his fingers. The cloth that Wonwoo always keeps on his shoulder whips around Wonwoo’s mouth and ties itself in a neat knot at the back like a makeshift bandana. “You really shouldn’t listen to nasty rumours.”

Disgusted, Wonwoo pulls the cloth off his face. “Soonyoung, I use this to clean the counter! Gross. And stop being a show off with your fancy magic. I’m rethinking my position on magical folk.”

“What I meant was you should still show me around town.” Soonyoung props his chin up on his palms, smiling at Wonwoo. “I only ever come here to fetch Jeonghan hyung his food, I really don’t know my way around the rest.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing around here that would interest someone like you.” Wonwoo says simply, unfazed by Soonyoung putting on his most charming smile.

His friends think the same, and they’ve made that plenty clear. Before Soonyoung had met Wonwoo, they’d all draw lots to decide who would have to run down to the inn to get dinner. Inevitably, Soonyoung would almost always lose, because Soonyoung’s cursed with the worst luck in the world. If Soonyoung’s being completely honest, the most interesting thing in this town’s the port, and even that’s just a tiny wharf for fishermen to dock their dingy boats. It’s nothing compared to the bustling cities Soonyoung frequents. Really, it’s the complete opposite of what Soonyoung likes. It’s slow-moving and calm, and while Soonyoung wants to retire in a place like this one day, right now, he’s a hot-blooded youth who longs for thrills and adventure.

All this, however, he does not voice. He just looks down at the counter, then back up at Wonwoo’s face. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m sure I could find something.”

* * *

Not for the first time, Soonyoung curses Yoon Jeonghan. If he’d known Jeonghan would be sending him on life-threatening tasks like this, he’d never have signed that apprentice’s contract last year. Flames flurry his way, and swiftly, he claps his hands together, parts them, and straightens his arms in front of him, pushing the flames backwards.

“Careful!” Junhui yells, quelling the flames from somewhere ahead. Soonyoung sends an apology his way without any real remorse, because they both know Junhui, a nature spirit, can handle himself with his eyes closed. On the other hand, Soonyoung has to fight to make sure this dragon doesn’t burn the hair off his scalp.

Somehow, Junhui manages to coax the dragon off her feet, and she rises slightly. Quick as a dart, Soonyoung flits towards the egg she’s protecting, replacing it with a similarly-shaped stone he’d conjured earlier.

“Junhui, I’ve got it! Now let’s get the fuck out of here!” Soonyoung shouts, already flying towards the entrance of the cave, sweat trickling down his temple. They’ve only got seconds before the dragon realises they’ve stolen her egg. Then the real shit would go down.

Junhui follows close behind, and together they hurtle towards the getaway portal Soonyoung had summoned beforehand.

“I _hate_ dragons. I can’t believe Jeonghan hyung sent us here. And I can’t believe he wants to raise one!” Soonyoung shrieks, aware that he sounds a little hysterical right now. But to be fair, he’d come _this_ close to losing all of his precious hair a few moments ago.

“Aw, they’re not too bad!” Junhui cackles behind.

There’s a roar from the cave, and Soonyoung thanks the heavens that he’d taken Jeonghan’s advice today.

_Always have a getaway plan._

He pulls Junhui into the portal by the wrist, and frantically closes it.

“Jesus,” Jeonghan exclaims when they come tumbling into the living room. Soonyoung groans from the impact of hitting the wooden floorboards, then again when Junhui lands on him. “Graceful as always, you two.”

Shoving Junhui off him, Soonyoung stumbles to his feet and narrows his eyes at Jeonghan, who gives him a cool smile.

“Hyung,” he whines, placing the egg in Jeonghan’s eager hands. “That was too much, don’t you think?”

Junhui mumbles something in agreement, still slumped on the floor. Waving him off, Jeonghan puts on the eyeglasses he keeps on a chain around his neck and examines the egg.

“Nonsense, Soonyoung. You did it, didn’t you?” He puts the glasses down, then beams at him. “This is why you’re the best.”

* * *

Soonyoung watches Wonwoo eagerly. They’re sitting by the dock, Soonyoung with his legs swinging off the edge and Wonwoo with his crossed.

“It’s…sour.” Wonwoo says finally, swallowing a mouthful of the fruit.

“Oh,” Soonyoung takes the fruit from Wonwoo’s hands and bites into it. It is, indeed, sour and unpleasant. “Sorry about that. It must have gone bad after sitting around for so long.”

Wonwoo makes a face and spits whatever’s left in his mouth out, gagging. “Ugh, Soonyoung, I appreciate the thought, but next time you want to bring me exotic fruit from your adventures, maybe make sure they’re fresh?”

Soonyoung dissolves into a fit of giggles at Wonwoo’s face, all scrunched up. He tosses what’s left of the fruit ahead, watching as it falls into the sea with a satisfying splash. The sun’s about to set. It’s probably his second favourite thing about this town, because the sunsets by the ocean here are some of the best he’s ever seen—and he’s seen some from the peaks of mountains. He pulls something from his satchel, a leather-bound book with yellowing pages and fading script.

“You’ll like this one better,” He says softly, and the way Wonwoo’s face lights up is enough to tide him through his weary days. Wonwoo flips through the pages carefully, smoothing the crinkles out. “I got it from a faraway kingdom. It belonged to the king. It was one of his most valuable books, actually, and people would come from all lands begging just to take a peek. But I sang him a song so sweet, danced a dance so lovely he gave it to me as a prize.”

“You’re fucking with me,” deadpans Wonwoo, and Soonyoung giggles.

  
“Yeah, yeah, I stole it.”

Beside him, Wonwoo shifts so his legs hang off the edge with Soonyoung’s. Soonyoung stares into the horizon, admiring the blend of golden hues when he feels Wonwoo’s eyes on him. Without lifting his eyes from the sky, he asks. “What is it?”

“You cut your hair,” replies Wonwoo.

“Yeah, well, some of it got singed off by a dragon, so I had to fix it.” Soonyoung turns to face Wonwoo.

“Now you’re _definitely_ fucking with me.” With wide eyes, Wonwoo reaches to touch Soonyoung’s hair softly, rubbing the ends between his fingers as if that’s going to summon the dragon.

“No, this time I’m not!” Soonyoung protests, unknowingly leaning into Wonwoo’s touch.

* * *

All around him the world sways in and out of focus. It’s akin to the dizziness that washes over him when he’s jumped through one too many portals. With a finger, he twirls an empty bottle in the air. It’s always dangerous to drink when one’s emotions are turbulent. This is something even non-magical folk know. Alcohol has the tendency to cloud one’s judgment and intensify emotions. For a sorcerer, however, it’s way worse. It fucks up your hold on your being and in turn, your magic. Soonyoung can feel it now, coursing through his veins, bubbling at his skin surface and threatening to break through. He sighs, and lets the bottle smash to the ground. For a moment, he considers cleaning it up. Quickly, though, he dismisses that thought. He’ll just have to be extra careful when he wakes up tomorrow.

He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror hanging on his wall. True to how he feels, Soonyoung looks like shit. He hasn’t bothered combing through his blonde hair in ages, and it’s tangled and in need of a good wash. Briefly, he cards his fingers through his hair to tame it, and he hates how it feels, dry and long and unkempt. The dark circles against pale skin isn’t a good look, either. Soonyoung’s always taken pride in up keeping his appearance, natural beauty glows from within, he’s always said, and it trumps even the best of glamour charms. It’s been more and more tedious lately, he can’t seem to bring himself to care. Irritated, Soonyoung flicks his wrist, and the mirror crashes to the ground too.

He’s being overdramatic, he knows, but he’s allowed to sulk once in a while, isn’t he? Dimly, he thinks of his conversation with Jeonghan earlier. He’d slunk into Jeonghan’s office with his head hung low, pleading for him to figure out the source of his issues. He’d insisted, even when Jeonghan had fixed him with a pitying, knowing look, until Jeonghan had taken him by his wrists, then pressed a careful hand to his cheek.

“It’s heartache, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan had said quietly. “Simple as that.”

Soonyoung purses his lips. He refuses to believe he’d fall prey to something as common and foolish as that. There must be something else, he thinks, perhaps he’s been hit by a hex from a hostile witch, maybe he’s being poisoned slowly by something he ate.

Of all faces, Xu Minghao’s now comes to mind, finger pushing his spectacles back up his nose, mouth pinched in a thin line. _Or maybe,_ Minghao says coldly, _I was right._ Even though he’s drunkenly imagining the whole thing, Soonyoung still shivers from the chill in Minghao’s voice. It hadn’t been that long ago when he’d finally gotten Minghao to warm up to him, and hearing his disembodied, disapproving voice again makes Soonyoung squirm.

He rushes to push Minghao’s voice out of his mind, and instead thinks of something softer, kinder. He sees Wonwoo’s eyes, dark but always bright, even when the rest of his face appeared expressionless. It’s somehow worse than Minghao’s hostility, and Soonyoung slumps down on his table.

The door to his room opens, and Soonyoung hears someone slip in quietly. There’s a soft breeze curling around his feet, and the tinkling of glass as the shards are carried over into the bin. Ah, Soonyoung identifies, it’s Junhui. He braces himself for some awkward conversation, no doubt about him throwing a tantrum and making a fool of himself, but nothing comes. Junhui clears the bottles on his table and puts a mug down in front of him, then leaves, slipping out as quietly as he’d slipped in.

Soonyoung wraps his hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into his fingers. He’s going to snap out of this state soon, or so help him God.

* * *

Soonyoung slams his glass down on the counter and cheers. Minghao walks past, brows furrowed.

“Really, Soonyoung, always coming here and making a scene.” His words are sharp, but Minghao looks at him with something close to fondness. Soonyoung thinks one day, Minghao will like him.

“It’s all his fault.” Soonyoung whines, words slurring a little. He points over at Wonwoo, who winks back innocently from the other side of the room, chatting some customer up. The thing about Soonyoung is he can’t hold his alcohol for shit. It doesn’t stop him from wanting to drink—he’s known to knock way too many glasses back habitually, it just means he always crashes afterward. Judging by the throbbing pain in his head, he’s maybe half an hour or so away from that. He slumps down on the table, pressing his cheek to the cool counter, and tries to ground himself. He just needs to focus on something solid, something to keep the world from spinning. His eyes fall on Wonwoo, who seems to be in the midst of persuading his customer to order another drink. Soonyoung scoffs.

“Don’t fall for it,” he murmurs. “He’ll have you all useless and foolish in no time.” The customer, of course, can’t hear him, and goes ahead and orders another drink. Soonyoung gives a sad smile, noting the bashful way the man looks at Wonwoo. “Poor thing.”

As if Wonwoo can sense Soonyoung’s gaze, he turns to look at him, corners of his lips quirking up. His sleeves are pulled up to his elbows today, revealing tattoos on his forearm, and he looks insanely attractive. Really, it shouldn’t be legal to look this good.

“Hold on for your drink just one second,” he hears Wonwoo tell the customer.

“Handsome.” Soonyoung mumbles when Wonwoo walks over.

“You’re a goner,” laughs Wonwoo. Wonwoo laughs with his head thrown back, and like everything else about him, it’s solid and comforting. Because Soonyoung doesn’t attempt to lift his head from the counter, Wonwoo bends down to his level, resting his head on the counter too. Soonyoung reaches out and taps Wonwoo on the nose absently, a gesture that makes Wonwoo laugh again. They’re close enough that the laughter tickles Soonyoung’s face, but not close enough to smell the soap Wonwoo uses or feel the warmth of his exhales. Soonyoung almost moves to pull him closer, but Wonwoo straightens up. “Hold on, I’ll be back after I make this drink.”

And he leaves, which makes Soonyoung wilt like a petulant child when left alone by his teacher. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a sobering voice tells him to snap out of it, because when had he let Wonwoo’s attention get to him so bad?

Sometime later that night, Wonwoo helps Soonyoung out of the inn. He thinks he hears Minghao’s sarcastic chiding and Mingyu’s gleeful teasing, but he can’t be certain when his ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. He does, however, hear Wonwoo’s smooth voice, whispering in his ear and guiding him home.

“Your house is nice.” He says sleepily, after Wonwoo unlocks the door to his home, a little cottage a few houses down from the inn. It’s a little cluttered, books and boxes all around, and Soonyoung is reminded of the castle.

“Sorry it’s a mess.” Wonwoo looks a little flustered, hastily picking up a shirt lying on the floor. Vision still hazy, Soonyoung almost trips over a box, and Wonwoo quickly stabilises him. Wonwoo’s fingers circle around his wrist carefully, and that ring of skin is hotter than any flames he’s ever felt.

Soonyoung drags his eyes from the floor up to Wonwoo’s fingers, then up to his forearms—did he mention Wonwoo’s tattooed forearms, then up to his face. Wonwoo looks back in amusement, and Soonyoung is suddenly overwhelmed. Funny, Soonyoung had only struck up conversation with Wonwoo because he’d wanted to kiss him (okay, fine, he’ll admit it now, but only this once because right now he can’t tell his left from his right), yet it’s been weeks of random visits and he still hasn’t done it yet.

With the hand that Wonwoo isn’t holding down, Soonyoung pulls Wonwoo’s face towards him and leans forward. But his drunken limbs must not be as swift as when he’s sober, because Wonwoo easily dodges his kiss, turning his face away so Soonyoung’s lips brush against the smooth skin of his cheek.

“Unfair.” Soonyoung breathes, eyes half-open.

“You’re drunk, Soonyoung. Try again when you remember my name.” Wonwoo laughs quietly, then guides him to the sofa.

“Of course I know your name.” Soonyoung lies down, pulling a throw to cover him. “You’re Jeon Wonwoo, you bartend at this inn by the sea that I visit way too much.”

The next morning, he lets Wonwoo walk him to their castle door.

From the beginning, Jeonghan had always gone on about never revealing the many doors into the castle around the world. Yoon Jeonghan’s always been extremely cautious with his life, fixing up ways to deter hostile creatures and setting rules for the others to follow.

For the most part, Soonyoung follows them.

_Never let us be found,_ nags Jeonghan in his mind. Soonyoung waves his voice away. This is different, he tells Jeonghan. This is Wonwoo, and that makes all the difference.

* * *

“Hyung, what’s wrong with him?”

“He is losing heart, Jihoon.”

“…”

“I fear he will one day forget what it’s like to have one.”

* * *

Soonyoung is a sorcerer famed among many lands for his beauty, his wit and his big heart. He has charmed many a being, humans and elves and dryads and river spirits, and he has kissed just as many. Nothing compares to the day he first kisses Jeon Wonwoo in a dark cobblestone alley. Wonwoo laughs, full-bellied and nose scrunched up, at one of Soonyoung’s jokes, some silly impression of a goblin he’d stolen from the other day, and Soonyoung pulls him in.

They’re in the middle of the alley on a nameless night and the moon makes Wonwoo’s hair glow like starlight. The laughter dies in Wonwoo’s throat and he looks down at Soonyoung through his lashes, nervous and expectant. Soonyoung wonders what Wonwoo sees in his eyes, if he can tell Soonyoung’s been aching to kiss him from the start; eyes are the windows to the soul, after all.

Against Wonwoo’s lips, Soonyoung’s brush feather-light, asking for permission, and Wonwoo’s hands come to Soonyoung’s hips. Good, because if not for them holding him in place, Soonyoung thinks he might very well have floated away then and there, riding on the giddy high of everything finally aligning and fitting just right. Wonwoo tastes like sweet longing and lackadaisical days by the sea.

Soonyoung drinks it all in.

* * *

It is still early morning when Soonyoung descends in Seokmin’s kingdom. He’s asked Jeonghan to pack his days with errands, because he’s decided what he needs now is to focus on work and work alone. To put one foot in front of the other and keep moving, lest he falter and fall. This is but the first of his tasks today, to deliver a message to Seokmin on Jeonghan’s behalf. After this, he’s off to the markets to purchase silk for their robes, then to the tailor for said robes, then to the next kingdom to negotiate a peace treaty. A busy day, and busy days must always be started early.

This is what he tells Seokmin when he enters the castle and Seokmin complains about being awoken at dawn. He hands Seokmin Jeonghan’s message, written on his best stationery, makes cursory, polite conversation before he gently excuses himself. Prince Seokmin’s always been one of Soonyoung’s favourites, sunny and kind and funny, but Soonyoung’s not in the mood to joke around with him today. There’s a lingering sorrow Soonyoung can’t shake off, has been for months now, but when Seokmin asks him what’s happened, strangely enough, Soonyoung can’t seem to recall.

He turns to the markets, squeezing past the crowds of townsfolk to get to his destination.

“Hoshi hyung! Wait up!” A voice calls earnestly, just as he’s struggling not to shove an overzealous street peddler off of him. Soonyoung swivels around and is met by Chan, who expertly weaves through the crowds and comes to a stop at his feet, grinning. And despite his sullen mood, there are few things that can cheer him up as much as Lee Chan, a street performer Soonyoung had gotten acquainted with a few years ago. The younger boy smiles at Soonyoung now, and Soonyoung finds himself smiling back. As always, Chan asks Soonyoung to tell him a story, one of his many adventures that he’s been on since his last visit. Fleetingly, Soonyoung checks his pocket watch, and decides he has the time to entertain Chan. The tailor can wait.

Chan leads him to a stall where they buy pork buns and blow on the steaming meat by the street. Soonyoung treats Chan, of course, the boy looks thinner than he’d been when Soonyoung had seen him last. With Chan listening with wide eyes and full cheeks, Soonyoung slowly begins to tell him a story about a frozen river spirit. It’s not a story Soonyoung’s lived through, just one of Junhui’s fables from his life that he’d shared with them over hot tea one night, but Soonyoung tells it like he’d witnessed it firsthand. Soonyoung’s always poured his magic into his storytelling and performing, and it comes out now, more pure and potent than it has been in the past few months, spinning and entwining in his words as he tells Chan about the villagers and their desperation to thaw the river, if only to have some clean water to drink.

“And they thought the spirit was wicked and cold on purpose, choosing to stay frozen and keep them thirsty and hungry. Every day, the villagers would take turns to go to the river banks on bent knee and beg for the spirit to melt. But the spirit wouldn’t, and would only watch them, unimpressed and indifferent.” Soonyoung tells Chan, as he chews on his bun thoughtfully. “Then one day, there came along this maiden, who was the fairest and most intelligent in the village. She approached the river banks, and placed one hand on the ice, and whispered something to the spirit. The next day, the water was flowing again and the green had returned to the grass in the village.”

Chan sighs with adoring eyes. “True love melted the spirit’s heart.”

Soonyoung blinks, feeling rather disenchanted. “What? No. Why would that be the moral of the story?”

“That’s always what happens in the best stories!” Chan insists, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. “The real victors are always those who fall in love. And that’s what happened here, isn’t it? The maiden forgave the river spirit, and he fell in love.”

Soonyoung shakes his head slowly, looking at Chan as if he’d not only grown thinner, but also grown an extra head. “No, Chan. She made a deal with him. She offered her life in return for his service, and drowned herself the next night.”

“That’s an awful story, hyung.” In Chan’s eyes, Soonyoung detects confusion and disappointment and something that looks suspiciously like worry. Belatedly, Soonyoung remembers this isn’t the kind of tale Chan likes to hear. Chan likes upbeat, inspiring stories that spur him to live his life to the fullest, and Soonyoung’s normally full of those, eager to match the energy Chan sends him.

“It’s real life,” Soonyoung tilts his head to the side, eyeing the younger boy. “True love, that sort of thing only exists in fairytales.”

His chest is hollow, but for a passing second, he remembers a man who smelled like fresh herbs and bitters who’d made him think otherwise. The face leaves his mind as quickly as it enters, and Soonyoung is left grasping at the wisps.

* * *

Soonyoung spends many a day at the inn after hours, when Minghao’s locked the doors and most of their guests are asleep, and it’s just the four of them huddled by the fire, talking about the sky, the sea, and everything in between. Mingyu always asks Soonyoung to tell them stories, eyes dancing in the glow of the fireplace and attentive in a way that reminds him of Chan. Being the ever gracious guest that he is, Soonyoung always obliges. They all have different things they like to hear about. Mingyu, with his big heart and boyish wonder, loves to hear about Soonyoung’s most exciting adventures, ones where he’s on the brink of death but pushes through somehow. Wonwoo, quiet and eyes crinkled at the corners, prefers easygoing tales of the lives of the various people Soonyoung meets along the way. Minghao, ever the sceptic, never requests for stories, but has long since stopped scorning them, only listens with a peaceful smile on his face. It’s something like a new family that Soonyoung’s wormed his way into, and they bring him the sort of calm and comfort that Junhui, Jihoon and Jeonghan can’t.

When the pot’s finally dry of tea and they retire to their bedrooms, Soonyoung follows Wonwoo back to his cottage, where they lie in his bed, protected by warm covers from the howling sea wind. Under the soft duvet that smells pleasantly of Wonwoo’s spicy soap, Soonyoung feels he could hide from anything in the world.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” Wonwoo says to him one night, looking up from a book he’s reading. When Soonyoung meets his gaze, eyes asking him to go on, he adds. “You’re just so…out of this world.” Wonwoo chuckles lowly. “Sometimes I wonder what we even have in common. Like, there’s so much, and yet so little.”

“That’s not true. We have lots of things in common.” Soonyoung frowns, nudging Wonwoo in the shoulder gently.

  
“That’s not what I mean. What I mean is, you’re magical and you go on all these wild adventures, and I just live the same day over and over again here. I’m just completely normal, and you’re not.” Wonwoo says this all matter-of-factly, and it deepens Soonyoung's frown.

“You know, you non-magical folk always think you know everything about magic. You think you know how it works and the truth is you don’t know the first thing about it.”

“Don’t we?” Wonwoo teases, putting his book down by his bedside table. He shifts so he’s facing Soonyoung, cheek resting in his palm as he gently smooths the creases in the sheets.

Decidedly, Soonyoung shakes his head. “No. Magic isn’t something that magical folk hoard for themselves. It’s all around us. It’s a part of nature, just like the air you breathe and earth you walk on. It’s not that magical folk _have_ magic, per se. It’s woven in everything around us. Just that some of us know how to wield it better.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow in question.

“And we wield it by tuning in to how magic comes to us. Because magic comes to each of us, magical and non-magical, in different ways. For me, it comes strongest through my words. When I speak, when I perform. It comes in other ways too, but that’s only because I’ve trained so long to get good. And for my friend Jihoon, it comes to him through music. And my master, Jeonghan, he does it through emotions. Yeah, I know, it’s kind of weird, but he’s really fucking perceptive it’s unbelievable. And it’s in non-magical people too! Like Mingyu, he doesn't know it but there’s real magic in his food. I feel it myself, Wonwoo, don’t look at me like that! And Minghao, well, to be honest, I haven’t quite figured him out yet. He’s a tough one to crack.” Soonyoung pauses in his tirade, and scratches his head.

Wonwoo laughs and flicks him in the arm. “God, you’re kind of a nerd when you talk about magic.” Soonyoung flashes him a wounded look. “What about me, then? What’s _my_ magic, sorcerer boy?”

Soonyoung looks at Wonwoo fondly, his hair messy and falling into his sleepy eyes. And he doesn’t quite know how to explain it to him, because when one has trained with magic as long as Soonyoung has, you sense magic in ways that can’t be put into words for the non-magical to understand. Soonyoung wants to tell Wonwoo that there’s magic, a silver stream of it twirling and braiding itself in his dark hair, and flowing from his heart through his veins, and pooling in his eyes when he smiles.

“You’re magic.” He says lowly, then leans forward and kisses Wonwoo lightly on his lips, then his jaw, and his neck, and his ear. Wonwoo laughs, the surface of his skin shaking against Soonyoung’s lips. With his hands on either side of Soonyoung’s face, he pushes Soonyoung back slightly, with a wide smile.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous, but thanks for trying to make me special, anyway.” Soonyoung open his mouth to protest, but Wonwoo silences him by putting his mouth on his, and his argument melts away like a frozen river in spring.

It’s true, says the words that get swallowed up.

* * *

The thing about Soonyoung is he was born with a restlessness he’s still trying to satisfy. The thing about Wonwoo is he was born with a steadiness of which any mountain would envy. Soonyoung is passionate and fiery, someone who falls in love hard and fast with everything and everyone; Wonwoo is constant and calm, someone sure as the tide rising and falling. It doesn’t take a genius to recognise that in as many important ways that they are similar, they are different, and some differences can’t be reconciled. Soonyoung doesn’t _do_ love, not because he can’t love, but because he hates the idea of settling down in one spot with one person and taking roots. He’s flighty and unpredictable and he likes to think that’s his biggest charm, his spontaneity and whimsical nature. And a flight risk like Soonyoung probably isn’t the best match for someone like Wonwoo. It doesn’t take a genius to recognise that, but it does take a certain sceptic to voice it.

“As much as it pains me to say it, I like you, Soonyoung. I care about you a lot. But I care about Wonwoo more and I need to know that you’ll be good for him.” Minghao keeps his arms folded and his voice is hard like the first time they met. Soonyoung wrings his hands and feels like a child on timeout. “Wonwoo needs someone stable, and if you can’t be that for him, then I think the sooner you leave the better it will be for you both.”

It’s been months since he’d first gotten Minghao to soften, and _that_ process itself had taken another few months. It’s disconcerting to see the giggling, foolish Minghao he’s grown to love revert to his steeliness.

“And I’m going to be honest with you now, because I always believe in being frank. I don’t judge people by their reputations, but you don’t have the best one, Hoshi. If you tell me this time it’s different, then I’ll believe you. But if it isn’t, you’d better leave before I find out. Mingyu may be enamoured with your glamorous life, and don’t _even_ get me started with how obsessed Wonwoo is with you, but not me. I see things, Soonyoung. Clearer than most. Maybe clearer than you.” Minghao’s tone is hard, but Soonyoung’s heard worse from him, because Soonyoung knows Minghao is sincere when he tells Soonyoung he cares about him. Still, this knowledge does little to dull the indignation and irritation that bubbles up in Soonyoung. Fuck Minghao, he thinks, fuck him and his high horse, thinking he knows everything there is to know about him. And fuck him for being the one bold enough to bite the bullet and point out the issue that’s always been sticking out like a sore thumb.

He yells at Minghao, wounded and offended and worst of all, ashamed. Wordless, Minghao lets him speak his mind, then leaves Soonyoung standing at the corner of the street with a curt nod when he’s done.

Perhaps Jeonghan was right after all, Soonyoung thinks bitterly. _Always have a getaway plan._

* * *

It’s been a long time since the three of them have had a day off to themselves, and all together. Despite the circumstances, despite the dull ache in his chest and pit in his stomach, Soonyoung supposes it’s kind of nice. They’re in the first place the four of them had parked their castle together, a meadow with sweet grass and fresh dew and trees with thick trunks and slender nymphs. They have many good memories here—when Soonyoung misfired a spell and set a tree on fire (Junhui had had to beg the nymph for forgiveness), when Jihoon would strum on his guitar and they’d all hum along, off-key, when Jeonghan had been practising his weather spells and would paint rainbows in the skies all day.

When he’d first suggested they all come here today, he’d been met with suspicious stares.

“Not going to the inn again?” Jihoon had said first, and in response Soonyoung had plastered on a bright smile.

“No, I don’t think so. We three should spend time together!”

And they’d agreed, albeit a little warily. Soonyoung is glad for it. Today is kind of a nod to their history. Things aren’t the same, but they feel deliciously nostalgic. Soonyoung lies on his back with his hands under his head in the grass, Jihoon swims in the lake, and Junhui chats up some nymph with emerald skin.

It’s been a week or two since his last visit to the inn, though not from a lack of rest days. Soonyoung has to give it to Jeonghan, he’s been unusually generous with them lately. Inside, Soonyoung knows that with time, the pain in his chest will fade and be forgotten. He’s just in one of his moods, he tells himself, and if it was getting to be worse than any of those that had come before, only he has to know that.

Later on, Jihoon helps to stoke a fire over which they cook a simple but hearty soup. They take turns to eat from the pot, spooning it into their mouths and trying not to dribble any down the pot. Jihoon hadn’t brought his guitar today, so they improvise. The song Junhui sings is in a tongue Soonyoung doesn’t understand, no doubt an ancient one shared between nature spirits and elementals that humans aren’t privy too. But it is lamenting and melancholy and just the tune is enough to break Soonyoung’s heart.

He stares into the fire, wonders why the heat doesn’t warm him up like it should.

_Time is the best medicine, but when it isn’t, a herbal tea should do the trick._

* * *

“What should we do?”

“When all else fails, a reminder to jog the memory can come in handy.”

“Don’t fucking speak in riddles, Junhui, you know I hate it.”

* * *

The moment he steps into the tiny inn, he’s promptly ushered out by a bespectacled man with hair curling at the nape of his neck. Soonyoung stares at him in bewilderment. It’s the strangest thing, he swears he can’t remember ever speaking to this man, but from the hostility in his eyes, he feels like he should.

“What are you doing here?” The man snaps, arms folded and barring him from entering the inn. Soonyoung can only blink in confusion, about to mumble that he’s merely here for a meal, when he’s interrupted. Jesus, this was probably the rudest stranger Soonyoung’s ever run into. “And why do you look like that?”

“Like what?” Soonyoung scratches his head, then takes a step backwards warily when the man leans into his personal space, poking at his ribs.

“Like you could disappear into thin air any minute. You’re all…pale. I feel like I could see through you.” For a brief moment, the coldness seems to melt away, and there’s something like softness on the stranger’s face. Again, _weird._ Soonyoung stumbles backward. It feels like his head is going to split open. Great, he grumbles, first he’d lost the bet and been forced to come to this deadbeat town to fetch everyone dinner (though Soonyoung swears he’d seen the dice glimmer with Jihoon’s telltale magic, the other three apparently hadn’t). And now he’s being interrogated by this peculiar man whose face looks foreign yet like one pulled from a distant dream Soonyoung’s had before. And not to mention, this whole interaction is making him feel small and his head hurt and he’s fucking Hoshi, legendary sorcerer bound to no lands, he shouldn’t be intimidated by a skinny man with spectacles sliding down his nose.

“Do I know you?” interjects Soonyoung, rather irritably. “I’d like to get some dinner, if that’s fine by you.”

“Do you know me? Do you _know_ me?” The man repeats shrilly. “For fuck’s sake, you’ve seen me countless times, and you still don’t know who I am?”

Soonyoung narrows his eyes, getting more and more annoyed by the second. The man meets his stare levelly, as if he’s sizing him up, then he bites his bottom lip pensively.

“Oh,” says the man after a moment’s consideration, smoothing the frown lines on his face. “Oh, I see. I’m Minghao. I own the inn. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you should come in.”

“Why not?” Soonyoung frowns. This is the most disagreeable, most unwelcoming inn owner he’s ever met. Soonyoung wonders how he’s ever managed to attract guests. Under his breath, Minghao mutters something like _fucking stuck up mages_ , but he ignores Soonyoung’s glare. “My friends are expecting a warm dinner, and I have it on good authority that this inn serves the best food in this region.”

"Funny that a humble inn like ours would interest a couple of hotshot sorcerers," says Minghao quietly. The door to the inn is pushed open, and another face squeezes into view. This one belongs to a handsome face with large, ingenuous eyes. The newcomer opens his mouth to say something, eyes lit in recognition, but Minghao quickly snaps, “Not the time, Mingyu.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“ _Nothing’s_ wrong with him.” Minghao replies calmly the same time Soonyoung indignantly says, “Nothing’s wrong with _me.”_

“You don’t look well, Soonyoung.” The handsome face, which opens the door wider to become a handsome, tall man—Mingyu?, says, concerned. Soonyoung bristles at the casual way Mingyu calls his name, then calms himself. He’s well-known, and it happens. “Even if…” Mingyu pauses, biting the inside of his cheeks. “I mean even if something happened, I still would have fed you. You need to eat.”

Soonyoung raises an eyebrow. He has no idea what is with all these strange people he’s meeting today. Had he been on a mission, maybe he’d expect it. But on a dinner run, one seldom has such odd encounters. Soonyoung rubs his head, which really does feel like it might split open anytime soon, and decides he’s not feeling up to this today. He’ll just go elsewhere and buy something else.

“C’mon, Minghao. Something’s clearly wrong. Look at him.”

“I can _see_ that, but it’s not a good idea.”

“Just one meal. I’ll fix it up real quick, Wonwoo won’t even notice.”

“I’m right _here_ , you know.” Soonyoung grumbles.

“Fine, but quickly, before his shift starts.”

Soonyoung, bemused, is dragged into the inn by the elbow, and promptly fussed over by this Mingyu character, who rubs at his shoulders and pokes at his pale cheeks.

It turns out that his friends had been right after all, the food here is good, _really_ good. Jeonghan had been raving about the meat pies earlier, but Soonyoung finds he likes the stew way better, he can taste the love and care that’s been brewing in the pot for hours. And surprisingly, it makes him feel a lot better than he’d expected to, it’s warm and earthy and Soonyoung feels more whole and just…good, better than he has in a long while. Or at least, as good as one can feel with two strangers, one nagging and fretting and the other watching closely like Soonyoung’s about to dash off with their finest possessions any second.

“Look, this has been weird. Thanks for your, um, hospitality, I guess. I’d just like to grab a few pies and then I’ll be off,” finishes Soonyoung, as he pushes his empty bowl aside and takes a swig of water.

The door clatters open, and yet another person enters the kitchen. Soonyoung can only hope he isn’t as strange as the other two. Glancing up to look at the newcomer, Soonyoung is suddenly aware of the complete silence that has befallen the room. Even Mingyu, who had spent the better part of his meal fussing over how Soonyoung wasn’t eating enough, is suddenly quiet. The man in the doorway has dark hair and dark eyes and dark tattoos curling up his forearms. His eyes flit from Mingyu to Minghao and back to Soonyoung, and he looks like he’s caught somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to cry. It lasts a few seconds, then he composes himself and his face is, all of a sudden, impassive.

The pain in his head has shifted, forced its way around Soonyoung’s brain and skull and throat and shoved itself to his chest. Unthinkingly, Soonyoung grasps at his chest and stares at this stranger who wears his unfeeling mask so well. On the tip of his tongue, there’s a name and a thousand and one emotions threatening to spill over the surface.

“Wonwoo?” asks Soonyoung in a terribly small voice. In his mind, the name had seemed awkward and clunky. Now, out of his mouth, Soonyoung gets the sense that once upon a time, this name had fallen out of his mouth as naturally as the rain falls from the sky. And from the look this man gives him, he _is_ Wonwoo after all. A tiny crack in his impassive expression, imperceptible to the untrained eye, but somehow, Soonyoung notices.

“Hello, Soonyoung.” The man, Wonwoo, greets formally, then turns on his heel, leaving Soonyoung gaping helplessly. For some reason, Soonyoung feels like he should chase after this stranger, feels like he knows him somehow, like maybe this is the answer to the melancholy that’s been haunting him for months. He gets up to follow, but is immediately yanked back by Minghao.

“It’s…nice to see you, Hoshi, honest.” Minghao’s voice is soft and Soonyoung detects an undercurrent of concern. “But it’s time for you to go.”

* * *

That night, Soonyoung has a dream. At first, he thinks he won’t be dreaming of a bottomless ocean for the first time in months. The dream starts of innocently enough, with him and Jeonghan, they’re flying among the stars, Jeonghan looking forward determinedly. Soonyoung glances down, they’re above the ocean. He looks back at Jeonghan, only now he’s Jihoon, who’s tugging him along, eyes concerned and lips pursed. Soonyoung calls Jihoon’s name, but his partner’s changed again. It’s Junhui, with a bright smile and rippling laughter, that fades sadly when Soonyoung doesn’t join in.

Soonyoung lets go of Junhui’s hand and then he’s falling, wind roaring in his ears. He could fly, he tells himself. He could easily fly, but he doesn’t and so he crashes into the ocean. This is where his dream blends into the usual. Looking down, he realises he’s sinking deeper and deeper into the water, but he can’t swim, and his magic’s out of reach. There’s only one way out, a hand outstretched. Soonyoung fights, struggles and screams, because this is simple, it’s just water, and he can do it himself without help. This is where the dream usually ends, with Soonyoung struggling and waking up feeling like he’s about to suffocate.

But tonight is different. Soonyoung grits his teeth and reaches for the hand, smooth and strong, and it hauls Soonyoung out of the water onto a dock. Scrabbling onto the wood, Soonyoung hacks up his lungs.

“It’s okay,” The owner of the hand says, voice deep and calming. Soonyoung looks up.

He wakes from his dream in the morning, cheeks wet and chest hurting worse than ever.

He leaves his room, hair sticking up in all directions and shirt clinging to his back. When he glances at the clock on the wall, it’s barely five in the morning, air still cold and damp. He shivers, and casts a spell to start the fire.

“You’re awake.” Soonyoung’s surprised to see Jeonghan out in the living room at this hour; he’s always been the kind to lounge about. Jeonghan barely lifts an eye off the scrolls he’s reading.

“And how’d you expect me to sleep through all the turbulence you were giving off?” remarks Jeonghan plainly.

Soonyoung rubs his neck awkwardly. Knowing Jeonghan and his sensitivity to beings, Soonyoung’s dream had taken an equal toll on him. He sits at their dining table, resting his chin on his knees. A blanket floats towards him and envelopes him.

“I need your help, hyung. I think I know what’s happened, but,” Jeonghan’s eyes continue moving across the pages. “But I need someone to fill in the gaps.”

“Well, you know what I always say, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan replies, shuffling the papers a little, “start with what you know.”

“I think,” he starts uncertainly, clears his throat, “that something’s been off for a couple of months now. And maybe it wasn’t so bad at the start, or it _was_ really bad at the start, but then it settled in this strange in between. Like things were alright, but there was this sadness pressing down on me all the time that I couldn’t pinpoint. Only I think I could pinpoint it at the beginning. At the beginning it was normal. It was painful, but I was aware. And now I feel lost.”

Jeonghan sets the papers down, and runs his fingers through his long hair contemplatively.

“And I think I know the cause now, because I ran into him the other day. Suddenly the pain became a lot worse, it came rushing back and it was as strong as it must have been at the start.”

Soonyoung buries his face a little deeper and peeks out at his master, who nods at him encouragingly.

“You’ve got most of it right.” Jeonghan waves a hand and the teapot boiling over the fire is whisked over to the table. He pours a cup of tea and hands it to Soonyoung. The violet tea soothes Soonyoung’s throat, raw from screaming. “A couple of months ago, you did something that hurt you very deeply. More deeply than you’d ever been hurt before. You hurt other people along with yourself.” Jeonghan pauses to sip some tea himself. “And you wanted to forget it so badly, that you lost a bit of yourself too. I think you know what.”

Emptily, Soonyoung’s hand drifts to his chest. “My heart,” he says, to which Jeonghan nods solemnly. “Will I get it back?”

For all his wicked teasing and bossing around, there isn’t anyone who cares and feels quite like Jeonghan, who gives Wonwoo a placid, kind smile. “You will. For a while, we weren’t sure, and we were scared. But you’ll be alright now.”

“How do you know that? Yesterday, the fog was so thick I didn’t even know something was wrong.” With Jeonghan looking at him across the table, confident and wise, Soonyoung feels like he’s just a fledgling of a sorcerer again, hungrily searching for someone to take him in and groom him into the kind of mage Soonyoung has always dreamed of becoming.

“I think you’ll find that things will be better after you rest. Properly, this time. What time cannot heal, a herbal tea can fix.” He reaches across the table to clasp Soonyoung’s hand briefly, then puts his eyeglasses back on. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get some work done.”

* * *

For the first time in ages, Soonyoung does not dream of the ocean. He dreams of a cliff, one that’s so high up the air is damp and clouds wisp around him. Soonyoung stands on the edge, and peering over sends his stomach somersaulting. There’s no one around and it goes against all forms of reasoning, but somehow, Soonyoung knows that he must jump off. He’s never been surer of anything else, that there is only goodness and peace waiting for him below. He jumps.

* * *

The next time Soonyoung turns the dials on the castle door, it is with surety, and a tone of finality. This time, he remembers where he’s going, and who he’s going to. Jihoon doesn’t cry when he leaves, but Junhui does.

“You’re a big baby,” Soonyoung laughs. He feels lighter than he has in forever. “I’ll be back. I’ll literally be back tonight.”

“Yes,” Junhui clears his throat, wiping at his eyes fiercely. “But not in the same way.”

Jeonghan is not there to wave goodbye or wish him luck. When he’d entered his office that day to break his contract of apprenticeship, Jeonghan had just laughed mirthlessly.

“What did I tell you, Soonyoung,” He’d said, while extracting Soonyoung’s contract from a drawer. “Don’t do love with non-magical folk.”

And to that, Soonyoung had laughed, blinking tears away, “You know I never listen, hyung.”

“I’ll never find an apprentice as bright as you.” Jeonghan had smiled, eyes sad.

And all that was nice and good and splendid. But now that Soonyoung’s on the doorstep of the inn, he feels like he might throw up and his heart’s in his mouth (except it isn’t, because it can’t be if it’s still missing). He sucks in a deep breath, and braces himself. He is Kwon Soonyoung. He has faced demons and shadows and fended off hexes and beasts. He is fierce and vivid, though a little naive and still with much to learn. He makes mistakes, but valiantly picks himself up afterwards, and tries to right what he has wronged. There are worse things out there than a boy who won’t love you back.

He’s just about worked up the courage to open the door, when Wonwoo, always eager to one-up him, beats him to it.

“Can I help you?” His voice is bland, in it there is neither the fondness it once held for him nor the flirtatiousness it holds for customers.

“We should talk, Wonwoo.” Soonyoung says, keeping his eyes on Wonwoo’s face.

Wonwoo bites his lip, and folds his arms. “It’s been months, Soonyoung. What could you possibly want to talk about now?”

“I just want to explain everything.” Soonyoung offers hesitantly. “If you’ll listen. But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I hope you will.” He adds hastily.

“Will you cast a spell and root me in place to force me to listen?” Wonwoo says, face straight. Soonyoung thinks there’s a hint of a joke in there, but he isn’t about to push his luck, so he shakes his head fervently.

Shifting his feet, Wonwoo raises his eyebrows, beckoning for Soonyoung to carry on.

“Simply put, I left because I was scared. It wasn’t anything you did, or anything that happened to me, or whatever. I was just terrified, because I don’t do love. I don’t settle down and get comfortable because that goes against every fibre of my being. I don’t want to be tied down.” 

“And you’re telling me this now for…?” Wonwoo wrinkles his nose.

“Wait! I’m not done. That was me back then. At the start, when we first got to know each other. But then things changed and I realised that it was different from anything I’d done before, and that scared me. It’s, like, look, I had this dream the other day. I was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall, and I didn’t want to fall, I just wanted to crawl back in. But it felt inevitable, like no matter what I was going to jump. Only I’d grown so comfortable to where I was on my ledge of that cliff, and the unknown was scary and complicated and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it.” Soonyoung pauses, and takes in a deep breath. He feels energy buzzing all over him.

"But I think I am now, if you’re willing to.”

“You chase dragons and tame the seas, but it's a _nobody_ who really scared you in the end. Funny, isn't it," says Wonwoo with a humourless laugh after the longest pause in Soonyoung's life. "One little person to take down the great sorcerer."

"You're anything but a nobody," whispers Soonyoung, chest tight.

"And you’re the biggest, dumbest idiot I’ve ever known. In my entire life.” Wonwoo’s still chewing on his lip, and he fidgets with the fabric bunched up at his elbows.

“I am, and I’m kind of in love with you.” Soonyoung says, a small laugh escaping as the words tumble out of his mouth.

Wonwoo moves a tiny bit closer, looking down at him because Soonyoung’s still a step lower. His blank mask wavers, and Soonyoung catches a glimpse of the one he’d known before. “How will I know you won’t leave again?”

“I promise. I swear on everything that’s holy.” Soonyoung rambles, shaking his head furiously. “There, I’ve sworn. Now if I break the promise, I’ll die a horrible death and go straight to hell.”

Wonwoo laughs then, and though it’s not quite the full-bellied, head-thrown-back laughter Soonyoung adores, it’s pretty damn close. Wonwoo bends down and kisses him. It's tentative and slow, and immediately it all comes rushing back to Soonyoung, how it feels to love and be loved. His eyes flutter shut and he revels in the moment, in the scent of Wonwoo’s spicy soap and the warmth of his every exhale, in the terrifying knowledge that one person has complete power over your heart, in the satisfying, grounding weight that’s back in his chest.

“This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you yet,” Wonwoo mumbles in between, and Soonyoung nods. The act of forgiveness is, in itself, a form of magic. And as a mage, Soonyoung knows that some magic is not so easily wielded. But he will wait.

When Wonwoo pulls away, Soonyoung smiles and touches a hand to his chest.

It feels right again. Solid, heavy and very much alive.

**Author's Note:**

> alright so! references!!!
> 
> the most obvious one is howls moving castle (duh)!!!!  
> i really enjoyed toying with the idea that hosh is this whimsical, out-of-reach sorcerer who enthrals everyone but never really sticks around, because he's always bound for greater adventures, like howl. wonwoo, ofc, is sweet and kind and takes pleasure in the little things and the little days, much like sophie! the idea of howl wandering around without his heart is so lovely and heartbreaking (ironic) that i thought it'd be interesting to try and tie in with the story somehow, though that wasn't the original intention.
> 
> hoshi's contract with jeonghan is somewhat inspired by haku's with yubaba in spirited away, though obviously jeonghan isn't cruel and abusive like yubaba. just a wise, talented and strict boss who watches over his apprentices closely.
> 
> and speaking of the apprentices!!! junhui's a nature spirit, because i think he fits that carefree, wild type. and jihoon's a fellow sorcerer, though i wrote him as one who's a bit newer than hosh, and so he's still a little behind in the story. 
> 
> also, in case yall were a little confused, sometimes soonyoung's referred to as hoshi bc i like to think of that as his ~wizard~ name, an alias that some know him by. 
> 
> please let me know what you think in the comments, i'd LOVE to talk svt & ghibli with yall ~


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